


For Once

by mariadperiad20



Series: Foray into B99 [3]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: "I'm proud of you" prompt, Father-Son Relationship, Roger Peralta's A+ Parenting, jake is a soft bean, season 2 episode 18, with many issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 02:56:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: “I’m proud of you.” Holt’s hand on Jake’s shoulder was firm, reassuring.It shouldn’t have felt as comforting as it did.





	For Once

“I’m proud of you.” Holt’s hand on Jake’s shoulder was firm, reassuring.

It shouldn’t have felt as comforting as it did.

It shouldn’t have made Jake want to cry, or hug Holt, or just… he wasn’t even sure. Break down, maybe?

Which was why Jake was now sitting at the bar, beer in hand, staring at the label. Trying to think. Trying to process.

Jake had been his father’s son for over two decades. Jake had been Holt’s detective for two years.

It didn’t make sense, how just four words could make Jake want to just… cry. And laugh. And scream. And throw this shitty beer across the room and smash it into a wall just to hear the sound it would make when it broke.

All this time, Jake had never heard someone say that to him. It was depressing, to realize that. No one was ever proud of him, had ever said they were proud of him, before. It was hilarious. That after all this time of seeking praise from his father like a lost puppy, Holt had given it so casually and so freely. It was _infuriating_. Jake hadn’t realized how much he wanted to hear those words until they were said, and now that he had… he was furious.

Furious that it had been denied for so long. Furious that, for once in his life, he could see how fucked up it was and he couldn’t pretend not to notice or deflect it or play it off for laughs. No, no, this was real and genuine and it _hurt_ because he couldn’t pretend that Holt’s words hadn’t made him want to cry with a form of joy he’d never even felt before.

Jake wanted to scream about how _unfair_ this was, but he knew it wouldn’t matter, wouldn’t change anything. Nothing was fair about dads who didn’t care and captains who did, but it wasn’t like Jake had any control over it.

“I’m proud of you.”

Wow, those words were like a drug. Jake assumed, anyway, he’d never actually done drugs before, except one time when he bought brownies that turned out to be edibles. Rosa had had to drive him home, and he was pretty sure he told her that she was, quote “The best Dia-z of the week!” or something stupid like that.

It was a miracle she hadn’t killed him then and there.

But, if she had, then Jake wouldn’t be sitting here, feeling completely lost. What was he supposed to do, now? Just go back to work and pretend that Holt hadn’t handed him the thing he wanted most in the world to him on a silver platter? And hadn’t completely decimated him in the process?

Jake kept staring at his beer, as if the “ingredients” section held the key to all his thoughts, as someone slipped down beside him.

“Peralta.”

It was Holt. Jake practically threw himself off his stool, before he managed to throw together some semblance of cool and turned to face him.

“Captain! I wasn’t expecting you. I figured you had an exciting documentary to watch or something.”

“No, documentaries are what Kevin and I do on Saturday nights. Today is autobiographical reading in silence with Kevin.”

“Oh. Cool, cool.” Jake nodded. “This bar isn’t exactly silent, though.”

“Yes, strange. I was under the impression that Gina broke the jukebox in here last week.”

“She was the one who did that?” Jake asked, “She told me it was Amy trying to find a Mozart piece!”

“Please. Santiago has a preference for Bach.”

Jake changed the topic. “You here for a drink, then?”

“No. I am here to speak with you.”

“Oh.”

“I realize that, upon reflection, telling you that I was quote, “Proud of you,” may not have had the result I anticipated.”

Jake frowned, picking at the label in an attempt to keep himself from losing composure. Of course. Holt hadn’t meant it like how he sounded he meant it. That wasn’t how it worked. It was never how it worked, with Jake.

“I had intended for the statement to be one of encouragement. However, it seems to have… made you upset. I apologize.”

“I’m not upset at you.” Jake shrugged dismissively. “It’s just, once you said it, I realized how fucked up it was that my dad never said it to me. Like, step one of parenting is to love your kid, right?”

Holt didn’t respond.

“I knew he never said it, and I made peace with that. But, Captain, you’ve only known me for a little while. How can you care about me in a way that he never has, after knowing me for my whole life?” Jake’s voice had turned bitter. “How can you say that you’re proud of me, when I’ve never made _anyone_ proud before?”

“That is incorrect. Many others are proud of you - Sergeant Jeffords cares for you, as does-”

“But they never say it, Captain! No one _ever_ says it! No one has! Well,” Jake amended, “No one except you, anyway.”

“I see.” Holt looked like he might be frowning. “There is much to be proud of, Peralta. You are highly accomplished, and are effective at both your job and your workplace environment. All of the team, as well as myself, appreciate your being with the Nine-Nine.”

“Please be my dad.” Jake blurted out.

Holt blinked. “Peralta, you have a father. And I do not intend to marry your mother. And you are far older than the age maximum with which adoption is possible.”

“Right, yeah, no, you’re right. It’s cool.” Jake muttered, embarrassed. He could feel Holt watching him.

“That being said,” Holt spoke again, after a moment, “I am… appreciative, of your request, and I find that it is inversely reciprocated in spirit.” Holt stood, placing one hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I am proud of you. And I expect you in the precinct tomorrow on time. Or,” Holt tipped his head, “As much on time as you are capable.”

Jake watched as Holt left, mouth agape.

It didn’t seem to matter, suddenly, that his father had never once been proud of him.

Holt was proud of him.

And that meant more, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I love the father-son relationship of Holt and Jake, and really wanted to try my hand at it.
> 
> If you like what you read, I take fic requests on tumblr.
> 
> Consider a comment?


End file.
